Hoffeelvin
by Loser Girl
Summary: Elves Live Forever. Legolas is still alive in our day, and he meets someone whose ancestors he knew - I know, not much of a summary. Jus' read and reveiw!!!
1. Default Chapter

~*~* A/N: This was an idea I had, so I decided to write it. Tell me what you think, and if you guys like it, then I'll continue!! *~*~  
  
  
"Immortality," he thought as he stood in line for his coffee, "is very overrated." He had changed a lot in the thousands of years, except for his hair - he refused to cut that, and he also tended to wear the Elvish colors - green, brown, and white. At the moment, we was wearing a pair of light khaki pants and a green t-shirt. He got to the front of the line, and ordered a coffee. The energy it gave him oft reminded him of elf draughts of the past, although they didn't have the unpleasantly bitter taste. He paid, and turned to inspect the rest of the coffee house for a place to sit. That was when he saw her.  
  
He had known many women, and men as well, in his long years, but never had he seen one like that. She had one hand entangled in her long blonde hair - it was her true color, most unlike many women of this time, who changed their hair color as often as they cut it. A puzzled expression played on her face, and she stared down at a very old book; old even by Legolas' standards. The pages were yellowed and crisp, and he felt himself drawn to this book, and this girl. She wore attire rather similar to Legolas' - a pair of khaki shorts and an olive green tank top. Every now and then she sighed, shaking her head, and squinted her eyes down at the paper.   
  
Legolas started, realizing that he had been standing and staring for several minutes. He moved over to her, and, putting on a friendly smile, sat.  
  
"You don't mind if I join you, do you?" he asked, his voice still holding that elvish softness. The girl looked up, as if startled by the presence of another living creature in her midst.   
  
"Oh.. no, not at all," she replied, and slid her book closer to her.  
  
"What are you reading?" he asked, trying to catch a glimpse at a page.   
  
"Oh, it's just some family heirloom. I found it a few days ago, and have been trying to read it. Most of it is written in.. well, it looks like English, but some of it, has these strange words and symbols. Half of it, I can't tell if it's a form of writing, or if someone just got bored and started doodling." She laughed softly. Legolas smiled, and nodded.  
  
"Can I see it?" he asked, and the girl shrugged, sliding the book to him.  
  
"Be careful, this thing is like.. super old." He smiled once again, and inspected the page beneath him. Letting out a small yelp, his eyes widened.  
  
"Um.. okay?" asked the girl, astonished by his reaction.  
  
"I know this," he said softly, exploring the page. Sindarin, Quenya, Runes, and Dwarven filled the page. Every now and then, some of the Common Tongue was weaved in. He squinted as he read the Elvish heading at the top of the page... On Isildur, and the Finding of the Ring of Power.  
  
"In the name of Valar," he muttered, and continued to read. The girl was watching him intently, guaging his reactions.  
  
"This was an heirloom, you said?" he asked, and she nodded. "What is your family name, exactly?"  
  
"Um.. it's a weird German name, half my family can't even pronounce it. Luckily, I can. It's "Hoffeelvin"." Legolas' eyes widened.  
  
"Hoffeelvin?" he asked, immediately making the connection in his head. Of course.. that had been it.. her hair, her eyes. Without a moment of hesitation, he reached out, tucking hair behind her ear. Although they had gotten more and more human and less elven over the generations - they still showed a little bit of a point near the top.   
  
"Half-Elven," he murmered, shocked, and then took the girl's hand. "Come on," he said softly, the girl's eyes large with confusion. "We have much to talk about." 


	2. 

~*~* A/N: Sorry it took so long for me to continue this story, I've been working on a LOT of other stories and projects and stuff. Collabs too! :-D Anyway, I hope you like this chapter, and please reveiw! *~*~  
  
  
The girl stopped walking, refusing to budge, as Legolas pulled her out of the coffee shop.  
  
"What is going on?" she asked, flipping her long hair back over her shoulders. He watched her for a moment, then finally tore his gaze away.  
  
"You probably will not believe me," he said softly, then looked back at her. She held the book close to her chest, protectively.   
  
"Try me," she responded, returning his gaze with a steely one of her own.   
  
"We should talk about this somewhere that it not so.. public," he said, with a weary glance thrown about. Although there were no longer Dark Lords or Nazgul about, he was still very careful of his surroundings. "May we go to your house?"  
  
"I don't even know you," she said, shaking her head, then glanced down. After a moment of thought, she looked back up at the tall, lean man in front of her. "Who are you?"  
  
"Legolas," he said, glancing down. He expected some sort of giggle or laugh from her - it was something he had grown accustomed to. "Legolas Greenleaf." Instead of the response he expected, she merely smiled, and nodded.  
  
"That is a nice name," she said, and brushed a lock of hair back. "My name is Lhuntûriel. It's a family name, or so I'm told. Personally, I like to think that my parents just jumbled a bunch of letters together."  
  
Legolas laughed, shaking his head. Indeed, the name Lhuntûriel was a family name of the Half-Elvens; One of Elrond's sisters had the name, and then one of his daughters as well.   
  
"Lhuntûriel Hoffeelvin," he said softly, and smiled to himself. "By the Valar."  
  
"What is the Valar?" she asked, raising her eyebrows. "You've said that at least twice already, and I've never heard it before."  
  
"Come," said Legolas, sharing with Lhuntûriel a trusting look, and taking her hand once more. "As I said before, we have much to talk about. Your house?"  
  
Lhuntûriel nodded, and, holding onto Legolas' hand, led him to her car.   
  
  
Legolas glanced about, a smile on his face. This seemed a house worthy of an elven princess. She lived surrounded by trees; by this day's standards, it would be called a forest, but by Legolas', it was merely a patch of greenery. Her house was of brown brick, and fairly large, but not looming. The entire downstairs was one large, open room, with several couches and chairs, and bookshelves. Then, the stairway led up, where she spent most of her time. Somehow, she explained to him, she felt more at home on the second floor, though she did not really know why.   
  
Legolas stood in the center of the downstairs room, glancing about. Lhuntûriel had disappeared up the stairs a moment ago, in search of a drink for her guest. Gingerly, he sat upon one of the couches, and waited patiently for her return.  
  
Soon, she descended the stairs, her movements catlike and fluid. She brought two mugs, and set one before Legolas, taking a seat near him on the couch.  
  
"It is tea, I hope you like it," she said, and took a sip of her own. He brought the mug to his lips, drinking slowly. The tea was simply exquisite to him, quite similar to Elf-draughts.   
  
"Tell me," he said, after thoroughly enjoying the tea for several moments. "Do you have any other heirlooms?"  
  
Lhuntûriel thought for a moment, her brow furrowed. "No other books," she said simply, throwing a glance to the Book that sat upon her desk. "Just one other thing; a ring."  
  
"A ring?" asked Legolas, straightening. "May I see it?" Lhuntûriel nodded, and reached for a chain attached to her neck, hidden previously under her shirt. She unlatched it and handed the chain to him.   
  
The Elf looked in amazement at the Ring before him. It had a gold band, and a large blue stone in the center of it. It was undeniable what this Ring was. "Valar," he muttered, turning it over and over in his hand. "Vilya."  
  
"What-ya?" she asked, raising an eyebrow. He looked up, and caught her eye. She looked back at him, curiosity and wonder in her eyes.   
  
"Vilya. It's a very old, ancient Ring, much like that book. Vilya is the Ring of Air, possessed formerly by Elrond Half-Elven."  
  
Lhuntûriel blinked, glancing down. "Half-Elven, that sounds a lot like-"  
  
"I know. The Book first made me think that you perhaps were a descendant of the Half-Elvens, then your name - but now, this Ring. It cannot be denied. You are Elrond's heir."  
  
"Who is Elrond?" she asked, shaking her head and raising her hands. "I-I don't understand what you're talking about."  
  
"Elrond was a half-elf; both noble and strong, the ruler of Rivendell." Legolas watched as Lhuntûriel leaned against the back of the couch, crossing her arms over her chest, obviously quite interested in this tale. "But when the Fourth Age neared, the time of the Elves passed, and he came here; to the West. As did I."  
  
"Fourth Age?" asked Lhuntûriel, shaking her head. "How long ago was that?"  
  
"Several thousand years," Legolas replied.  
  
"You're telling me you're several thousand years old?"  
  
"I know, it's hard to believe, but-"  
  
"Actually, it makes a lot of sense. It's all quite clear now," interjected Lhuntûriel, her eyes down. "Some friends of mine must've put you up to this. Play a joke on Lhuntûriel, she falls for anything right?" Legolas started to protest, but she cut him off. "Send an attractive man in my direction, have him tell me a tale of elves and immortality and Rings, and then see how much I believe, is that it?" She stood, a glare in her light blue eyes.   
  
"Lhuntûriel-" Legolas began, but was cut off when she grabbed him up, quite roughly, and started to push him toward the door.   
  
"I don't want to hear it," she said, and almost had him out the door, when he grabbed her arm, stopping her.  
  
"Look," he said softly, and, reaching up, tucked his long blonde hair behind a smooth, pointed ear.  
  
Lhuntûriel looked up at him, wide-eyed. "But.. how?"  
  
"I shall tell you the entire story, if you will hear it," he replied, and looked down at her. She nodded, and sheepishly led him back to where they sat before.  
  
  
"So, I'm the descendent of this Elrond guy," she said, nodding finally. He returned the nod, and Lhuntûriel looked off, in thought for a moment. "I have a question. If that book has been around for as long as you say, almost five thousand years, then why isn't it dust by now?"  
  
"It must have been protected by some sort of enchantment, probably an Istari's favor to Elrond."  
  
Lhuntûriel nodded, not bothering to ask what an Istari was - throughout his explanation, Legolas had used dozens of terms she was unaware of; places, people, things that she had never before heard of, and some that she thought merely to be flights of fancy. She looked up at him again.  
  
"What do we do?"  
  
  
~*~* A/N: There it is! Hope you enjoyed! *~*~ 


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